


Turning Point

by Missyhissy3



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missyhissy3/pseuds/Missyhissy3
Summary: Six months post Endgame and it's time to move on





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgyleTrekkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgyleTrekkie/gifts).



> AN:This story is dedicated to ArgyleTrekkie and northernexposure/notimejustwords
> 
> It's a sequel to [Hidden Talents](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12095469/1/Hidden-Talents) by the hugely talented northernexposure; if you haven't already read it, then go read it now. I promise you won't regret it. There are several shout-outs to it in this chapter.
> 
> Massive thanks to northernexposure for suggesting I write this, for the beta read, and for her incredibly useful suggetions. And another big thank you to Photogirl1890 for her invaluable typo check.
> 
> The rest of the story is written, so it shouldn't be too long before I can post it.
> 
> I haven't written any fanfic in over a year because… reasons, so I really hope this isn't a disappointment to anyone who enjoyed my other stories. Reviews or comments are obviously always very welcome.
> 
> The story was inspired by a pic called 'Hello old friend' by Gilly H. It's on ffn as the book cover, and on my tumblr dash. I posted it here yesterday, but my photo hosting site has just decided not to allow me to anymore, sorry!

Turning Point

One of the most striking things about the reception was the choice of illumination; nothing but candles. Modern candles on the bar, traditional wax candles on the tables, and lamps with candles hanging from the low roof of the beach-front restaurant.

Beneath his feet, well-seasoned wooden decking stretched out across the room. His gaze travelled its full length, past the point where the roof overhead ended and moonlight reflected off the polished surface of the floorboards. The tropical night air around him still held some of the warmth of what must have been a steaming hot day. Occasionally, fresher gusts pushed their way in off the dark sea to gatecrash the reception. After ten weeks of recycled air, the slight breeze smelled divine to his heightened senses.

Small groups of guests were scattered around, some sitting, some standing. There was animated conversation, easy laughter and frequent movement between the groups. In the short time that he'd been there leaning against the bar, several people had already introduced themselves, engaging him in conversation as they'd passed. They seemed to be a welcoming and sociable crowd.

To Chakotay's left, there was a slightly raised stage area where a band of musicians were just playing the final bars of a percussion-based number with an infectious Latin beat. His fingers drummed gently against the bar and his toe tapped in time with the music. The band members took a bow, accepting the appreciative applause of the guests with wide smiles.

The musicians set down their instruments, stepping down from the stage to wander across to where the decking stretched out under the stars. A small girl slipped quickly past them, holding above her head one of the elegant table decorations, trailing it out behind her like a blue and silver comet. A little boy followed her, trying to grasp it and failing. She was too quick and nimble for him. _'Twas ever thus_ , Chakotay thought with a wry smile. The little girl did one more circle of the moonlit dance floor with her sparkling streak of colour, then darted off down the steps that lead directly onto the beach, the small boy still in tow.

It was impossible not to notice the striking artistic flair of the blue and silver ocean-themed decorations adorning the walls and tables. Together with the candlelight, the music and the flow of laughter and conversation, they added to the atmosphere of relaxed sophistication.

 _Fitting_ , Chakotay thought.

He'd arrived on time. The family party had yet to make their entrance.

He was still a little surprised to find himself here. When he'd received the invitation, it had seemed very unlikely that he'd be able to make it. He'd accepted that perhaps a little more easily than he should have. But then it seemed the universe had other ideas. It just so happened that the date had coincided with a two-day maintenance stopover in spacedock for _Voyager_ , and B'Elanna had been in touch twice to check he was coming, so here he was. The location had also tempted him. He'd always wanted to go the northern cays, and now that there was a transporter station on this island, getting to Playa Perla Blanca had been easy.

The flute of champagne he'd been handed on arrival seemed to be empty already, so he turned towards the bar. One more would be good, just enough to take the edge off his sobriety. Because they would all be here any minute. He looked towards the entrance again, his discomfort getting the better of him for a moment. He was here, and he would play his part, but he didn't relish the prospect of seeing Kathryn Janeway in the arms of another man.

Chakotay obviously had no right to comment. He had made his bed... He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. This train of thought was not new. The irony of the timing wasn't lost on him. For years he had intended to be first in line to ask Kathryn out on a romantic date the moment they made it back, but things just hadn't worked out that way. He had no idea what Kathryn had thought about his brief relationship with Seven. She'd never said a word about it. In fairness, it was all over before she would have been obliged to acknowledge it. Seven had called it off at the homecoming ball. Decisively. Efficiently. And he hadn't been all that surprised or distraught. He had cared for her deeply, he still did, but he hadn't been in love with her and she could tell. True, Kathryn had never let him know what she thought about it, but his gut, as well as his failure to mention it to Kathryn himself, told him that it wasn't something she would have welcomed.

It wasn't as if he had ever _turned down_ the chance of a relationship with Kathryn Janeway in favour of exploring one with Seven – which, according to Sekaya, was just one of the many stories about _Voyager_ 's personnel touted in the media since their return. The truth was that Kathryn had never opened that particular door. Or rather she'd pushed it gently shut after they'd fallen through it accidentally the only time he'd ever kissed her – and she'd most definitely kissed him back – one memorable evening when they'd been dancing together on the holodeck. Even though it was years ago now, he'd found himself thinking about it as he'd made his way to the restaurant. Hardly surprising, since these were the very islands that were once home to the music and the dance that had played a part in their passionate encounter during that short and steamy salsa session.

These days, whenever he began thinking about his personal life, memories of Kathryn Janeway surfaced pretty soon, usually as some sort of benchmark against which to measure potential partners. More irony? Sure, in some ways, but not in others. For the greater part of their seven year journey, he'd been convinced that a more intimate relationship with her held the promise of a lifetime of untold potential. So was it really so strange now to want to find a prospective relationship that seemed to offer equal promise?

In the first few weeks after their explosive re-entry into the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay had been on the receiving end of plenty of attention, and he had enjoyed unwinding in the evening a few times with attractive female company. A couple of the women he had met had made it clear they wanted to see him again, but he simply hadn't been able to drum up the requisite enthusiasm to arrange any second dates. One of them in particular had struck him as a lovely person, lively and attractive. Cherry? Sherry? Cheryl maybe… She had even shared his interest in anthropology. But a week passed and he still hadn't called her, so he gave himself a talking to. He made a mental list of the reasons he _should_ want to call her. Hardly an auspicious start. Needless to say, he didn't call. Despite their best efforts, none of the women he had dated had managed to get under his skin or get his nerve endings jangling even a fraction of the way Kathryn Janeway had for years by barely lifting a finger.

Chakotay actually envied Kathryn's optimism; he envied her ability to entertain new beginnings in her personal life. Of course she deserved to be happy, so for that reason he would swallow the undeniable waves of disappointment, washing down with them the surprisingly intense surges of jealousy that threatened his peace of mind whenever he thought about the fact that she had found someone with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

If he'd spent more time thinking about this beforehand, he might have made an effort to come with a date of his own; there was Kathryn's situation and there was also the fact that he didn't expect to know many people. But the life he had chosen meant that he had been busy 24/7 with ship's business until about an hour before he left, so, here he was, propping up the bar on his own.

He accepted a refill, straightening the cuffs of his white shirt as the bartender poured the champagne. The dark grey suit he'd chosen for the occasion felt good. It was always worth getting them sent over from that Italian tailor. There was something about the way the jacket of a handmade suit sat over his shoulders that always felt far better than any replicated garment.

Instinctively he turned towards the sound of voices and laughter in the entrance. The family party was arriving. He took a sip of champagne and waited for them to filter in.

He'd had the dubious pleasure of being introduced to Kathryn's partner not long after they'd starting dating. For some reason he couldn't fathom now, it hadn't occurred to him at the time that Kathryn would be serious about the relationship. Even so, he had still been instantly jealous of the man, and he'd suspected Kathryn could tell. The introduction had been a strain, but he'd gotten through it with his dignity more or less intact.

He reminded himself again that he was honoured to have been included in what was a joyous family occasion for Kathryn tonight. He'd try harder this time to keep a lid on things. He'd done it, more or less, the first time. Maybe it would get easier with practise.

XxX

Except, actually, it didn't.

The minute Kathryn and her fiancé walked in behind the bride and groom, it hit Chakotay just how much harder this was going to be.

Kathryn was dressed in rich midnight blue, her hair in an elegant up-do. Even though others in the party were half-masking her from his line of vision, to Chakotay she looked so very appealing. He could see enough of her to notice the hint of colour warming the dusting of freckles that spread down her elegant neck to her defined upper arms. And the dark circles that had once taken up more or less permanent residence under her eyes were long gone. She looked at once achingly familiar and even better than he remembered. He barely noticed her tall, blonde escort.

But then those around her shifted, affording Chakotay an unobstructed view of her whole outfit.

His jaw went instantly slack as his brain stalled.

There was no doubt about it; she was wearing an exact replica of _that_ dress. The whole damn outfit actually. Right down to the sheer black pantyhose accentuating her toned calf muscles and the black patent heels that added a tantalising tilt to her hips. The only difference was that tonight's dress was a shimmering midnight blue and the other had been black. It was a very distinctive look, and it wasn't as if he was likely to forget, even though it had been five years. As his gaze swept over the garment from where it crossed in a 'v' shape just above her cleavage, his mind was flooded with vivid memories of running his hands over the sheer fabric, mapping the dips and curves of her lithe body. Everything about her was a deep blue ghost of that night on the holodeck – that particularly _memorable_ night. Instinctively he clenched his fists as his traitorous hand recalled exactly how her hipbone had felt pressing into his palm while his other hand had slid down to cup the curve of her perfect backside, pulling her flush against his body as they'd devoured one another in a frenzy of passionate chaos…

For a second he felt almost dizzy.

_What…? Why?_

Why on earth would she choose to wear _this_ , and have him invited here to watch her walk in on the arm of another man? The man who was, he'd been told a few weeks earlier, now her fiancé.

He swallowed a desperate mouthful of champagne.

Why on earth would she _want_ to walk in as the reincarnation of the Kathryn of that fantasy-made-a-little-too-real evening? He could feel his blood rising as more questions buzzed through his head. What was she playing at? Was this amusing for her? Was she toying with him, to see if he would react?

He watched her as she laughed at something her fiancé said. Then he took a deep breath and checked himself, dragging his gaze away from her. He shook his head as he exhaled.

_Idiot. Get a grip._

Kathryn Janeway's world did not revolve around him. It never had, and it most certainly didn't now.

Far more likely that she had simply remembered the outfit because she _liked_ it. None of them had had much time for off-duty clothing during those years in the Delta Quadrant. His own civilian micro-wardrobe from that time had barely filled half of one small transit unit when they'd packed for disembarkation. Far more likely that it had occurred to Kathryn that the outfit would be perfect for this Caribbean evening with live Latin music, so she chose to recreate it. More likely that she hadn't given a second thought to the circumstances in which she'd worn it the first time, or to him. She was _engaged_ , and anyway, it was _five years_ ago. Five and a half years ago to be exact. This was his problem, not hers.

_Deal with it, man._

Chakotay took another deep breath in and squared his shoulders. Then he made his way decisively over towards his former captain and her partner. He would not lurk in the shadows avoiding this. To do so would be to fail to meet the basic expectations he had of himself; namely to make his way through this world with a certain level of grace and courage in all things.

"Kathryn," he greeted her warmly, gently clasping her elbow and leaning in to kiss her cheek. His lips lingered there a fraction longer than they should, as he took the opportunity to breathe in her scent. (He aspired to grace and courage, not saintliness.)

Drawing back, he checked himself yet again and regrouped. "It's good to see you. You look stunning."

Shining eyes smiled up at him. "You always did scrub up pretty well yourself. I'm so glad you were able to come."

Her fiancé shifted slightly where he stood. Kathryn turned his way. "Chakotay, you remember Guy Baldwin."

Chakotay extended his hand. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise." Baldwin's handshake was brusque and gelid.

Chakotay fought a cruel and irrational urge to crush the man's long fine-boned fingers.

"How's life among the stars treating you, Captain?"

The surprisingly high pitch of Guy Baldwin's voice didn't seem to marry with his appearance. He was very tall, several centimetres taller than Chakotay, and he was handsome and poised. His wavy blonde hair was swept back neatly off his fine features and he had an aura of effortless self-assuredness. The grey eyes appraising Chakotay gave little away. When, not long after they'd gotten back from the Delta Quadrant, B'Elanna had told him Kathryn was dating Baldwin, Chakotay had feigned indifference so successfully that he discovered afterwards that he'd completely failed to retain any of the details. All he could remember was that Baldwin worked across the square from Kathryn's office, heading up the legal section at the Fleet Operations Center.

"Good, thanks. Our latest mission went pretty smoothly, all things considered." Chakotay looked to Janeway, knowing she'd have something to say to that.

She didn't disappoint.

"Really? Because I heard that you managed to crash my ship so badly that they had to recall you to spacedock," she challenged, her expression playful, her hands gravitating towards her hips.

Despite everything, Chakotay found himself smiling. "You know, you shouldn't believe everything you hear, Admiral. And you do realise I wasn't piloting the ship myself?"

"So you admit you crashed?"

"Let's just say it wasn't the smoothest of landings."

"I hope you gave your pilot a good talking to."

"She was very apologetic – although it really wasn't her fault."

"I see. Well, I'm actually rather grateful to her. If she hadn't given _Voyager_ a few sizeable cuts and bruises, then you wouldn't have been called back to spacedock and been free to come this evening."

"Good point. " Chakotay nodded. "It's good to know my crew are working together to make sure I still have a social life."

"All the best crews do that for their captain," Kathryn replied, a little wistfully.

Baldwin was watching her closely. "And when you were forced to captain that vessel for all those years on the far side of the galaxy, Kathryn, did your crew do the same for you? Did they ensure you had plenty of opportunities to let your hair down?" His long fingers casually reached up to toy with one of the auburn wisps that had escaped Kathryn's elegant up-do.

"Oh yes," she replied, looking at Chakotay rather than reacting outwardly to Baldwin's touch. "They ganged up on me more than once or twice."

Chakotay quickly steered his way around memories of the week before talent night and arrived at something else. "She made a memorable Queen of the Spider People."

"That wasn't _social_ life – that was to save the ship!" she protested with a smile.

"You're right," he agreed. "Nice work, if you can get it."

"I don't remember you putting yourself forward for the part at the time," Kathryn replied with a sideways smile. "Are you sure you could have carried off the slit skirt and the low cut dress?"

"Maybe not." Chakotay quirked a brow. "Then again, some of the traditional robes of my tribe are pretty revealing."

Kathryn laughed, and the sound breached Chakotay's defences like floodwater. Guy Baldwin cleared his throat and Chakotay tried not to enjoy Baldwin's evident lack of enthusiasm for the length and warmth of their exchange.

"Have you met the groom?" Janeway redirected, possibly picking up on the mood of her fiancé.

"Not yet," Chakotay replied. "I've already been told he's a celebrated musician and that he grew up in these islands."

"You'll like him. Federico is a wonderful person. And any man brave enough to take on my sister deserves our respect."

Chakotay chuckled. Guy Baldwin remained silent, projecting an air of tolerant patience.

"Phoebe's friends are a very creative bunch," Chakotay observed. "Everyone I've been introduced to seems to be an artist, an actor, a musician or a performer of some kind. I have to admit I was starting to feel a little inadequate about my own lack of talents."

"I see. Then I think you might be overlooking something."

"How so?"

"I seem to remember you were quite a performer yourself when push came to shove."

Chakotay felt sudden heat rising in his neck together with a renewed pulse of confused antagonism towards her. So much for the theory that she'd forgotten about the last time she wore that outfit.

"You remember then?" He kept his tone light, but he suspected that his eyes had betrayed him seconds before. An answering spark of something equally intense kindled in Janeway's expression. She held his gaze for a beat, opening her mouth to reply just as her escort spoke.

"Champagne, Kathryn?" Baldwin's voice cut in. Chakotay turned to see him lift two flutes from the tray of a passing waiter and hold one out to Janeway, obliging her to look his way.

"Thank you, Guy," she replied politely.

Instinctively Chakotay backed off. Less than five minutes with Kathryn Janeway and he was off balance yet again. "Well, I'll leave you two to circulate. It's time I paid my respects to the happy couple."

Kathryn nodded diplomatically. "Tom and B'Elanna are right behind us. I know they're looking forward to seeing you too."

XxX

An hour went by, during which Chakotay kept his distance from Janeway and Baldwin. For the most part, he tried to stand with his back to her; that way he couldn't so easily watch her progress around the room.

He was introduced to Federico, the instantly likeable groom. He caught up with B'Elanna and Tom and shared news. He charmed several of Phoebe's friends, all of whom were nothing short of charming in return. A couple of them seemed to take a particular interest in him, and seemed keen to make him feel welcome.

He was a model guest. The currents of drink and music and laughter and talk were flowing and he was doing well. As long as he couldn't see the sister of the bride and her fiancé, he was just fine.

Then the band began their second set for the evening and, immediately, the distinctive rhythm of a traditional Cuban salsa caught Chakotay's attention. He looked across the room to exactly where, despite his best efforts, he knew Kathryn was standing, to find her turning towards him in the same instant. Just as their eyes locked, Baldwin's body eclipsed her. The tall man took her hand and led her towards the furthest part of the decking out under the stars, where other guests were dancing.

Chakotay studied the polished wooden floor for a moment, brushing invisible fluff from the lapel of his jacket, exasperated with himself. It took more concentration than he'd have liked to admit to summon up the semblance of a neutral expression as he tried not to watch them dance.

It didn't matter that she'd rarely looked as good to him as she did in that moment. So what if he had been thinking about her more and more in recent months? Kathryn had moved on. Definitively so. She'd done so months ago – _years ago_ probably. It was high time he did the same.

Although… it would be difficult to find a harder place for him to start, frankly, with her right in front of him wearing _that_ dress, that _lingerie_ , those heels, and dancing with someone else to music that occupied a special place in his heart.

If you could call it dancing… The man was a disaster on the dance floor. For more reasons than one, it was actually painful to watch.

And how exactly should he go about 'moving on' when this evening had done nothing but reinforce for him how much power she still wielded over him? Power she didn't even want or value. In every other sphere of his life he was his own man. Never had he felt so fulfilled professionally; the captaincy of _Voyager_ meant everything to him right now. Even though he knew there were those at Starfleet Command who remained unconvinced, and possibly always would, that he was the right man for the job, he was where he wanted to be. He was in excellent health; he had good friends and a spectacularly comfortable apartment he'd barely slept in yet. His life was good. He was happy. But after only a few minutes of watching Kathryn Janeway in the arms of another man his equilibrium was shattered.

It was no good. Who was he fooling? It was time to cut his losses and get out of there. He'd paid his respects to the happy couple, he'd spoken to his friends; he could end this torture and no one would even notice.

He turned to leave.

[TBC]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: big thank you as always to northernexposure, for taking time away from her own stunning new fic  
> [Across the Sky in Stars](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12744067/1/Across-the-Sky-in-Stars). to beta read this, and to the eagle-eyed PG1890 for her invaluable post-messing typo check.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a review to the first chapter here and on fanfiction.net. It's lovely for me to hear that people are enjoying the story, and I really do appreciate the encouragement!

 

Chapter Two

He'd only gone a few steps towards the door when B'Elanna stepped in front of him.

"Where are you going?" She frowned, but didn't wait for a reply. "I need you to come talk to me. Tom's flirting with Kathryn's crazy aunt and I'm feeling like a spare part."

Chakotay inhaled deeply, swallowing a sigh and longingly eyeing the exit. He knew it was quite possible B'Elanna Torres was the reason he was here in the first place. She liked these people well enough, but reading between the lines, she had yet to bond with the extended Janeway family in the same way Tom had. It had occurred to Chakotay that he'd been included on the guest list as moral support. Unwilling to put his own discomfort ahead of hers, he summoned a smile and allowed her to lead the way back in.

He followed her back through the restaurant and out under the stars to the end of the polished wooden decking. For a moment they leaned on the railing, looking out over the thick moving darkness of the sea, breathing in their surroundings in companionable silence. The tide was coming in. The beach had become a thin trim, gradually fraying into the creeping froth of the waves. The occasional fresh gusts of salty air that came their way helped clear Chakotay's head a little.

They were just far enough away from the live music to make conversation possible. So, for a few minutes, he entertained his old friend with more stories of her former crewmates still serving on _Voyager_ , and he encouraged her to share something of her life as a new mother and working parent.

XxX

"You should cut in," B'Elanna told him a little while later, looking back towards the dance floor. "I mean _look_ at them. What that man is doing to this music is just plain wrong!"

Reluctantly, Chakotay turned, knowing that Torres was watching Kathryn and her fiancé. Baldwin towered over Kathryn as they swayed together in a loose generic dinner-dance hold. It was true that Baldwin's stiff posture was particularly ungainly, and it was hard to see a relationship between his movements and the fast, syncopated rhythm of the song the band were playing.

B'Elanna shook her head. "Guy Baldwin is all wrong for her. You know that, right?"

Chakotay shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed one of his Italian leather shoes against the wooden floor. "Kathryn didn't fall for him because of his dancing ability, B'Elanna," he pointed out patiently.

His friend rounded on him. "You know that's not what I mean. And anyway, how do you know she's fallen for him?"

He frowned. "Y _ou're_ the one who told me they're engaged."

"Yes, but she's been engaged before. And they're engaged; they're not married yet."

"Your point?"

"I just can't see her with Guy Baldwin long term. I mean, seriously, can you?"

" _She_ can. That's what matters."

B'Elanna huffed out a breath. "You know, she's _always_ asking after you. ' _Have you heard from Chakotay, B'Elanna? Where will Chakotay be staying while he's on leave, B'Elanna? Has Chakotay found an apartment yet, B'Elanna_?' Do you have any idea how many times she's been in touch to ask me whether or not you were going to be here tonight? Maybe she was hoping to talk to an old friend about all this, before she goes and gets herself hitched to that man?"

Chakotay shrugged.

"And if she really _is_ so serious about Baldwin, then why the hell does she keep looking over here?"

Torres's words made him look up. Sure enough, Kathryn's intense gaze singled him out from across the room, staying with him until movement around her obscured him from her line of sight. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to mutinous attention and the tips of his ears burned. Damn things were probably flashing.

_Because she still thinks about me sometimes? Because she's wondering where I fit in –_ if _I fit in at all – to her new life? Or just because she's a tease?_

There was no denying Kathryn Janeway had sometimes led him a merry dance in the past. In the years that followed that memorable night on the holodeck, he'd lost count of the number of times that she'd stoked up his imagination with the suggestion of what _could_ be, and then invariably pulled back. Each time he'd been left more and more unsure if it was because the time still wasn't right, or if it was just plain rejection.

Chakotay inhaled deeply to shake off the memory. Then he straightened up to his full height to put some distance between the young engineer's mouth and his ear, only to find himself looking over her head straight into the smiling face of Tom Paris. He wasn't in the mood to talk to Tom, and B'Elanna would be fine now that he was back.

"I need to pay my respects to someone," Chakotay said. "I'll catch you two later."

He ducked and weaved his way around the edge of the dance area, towards the champagne flute-littered camp of the elder Janeway stateswomen.

XxX

"Handsome couple, aren't they?" Kathryn's Aunt Martha remarked, her bird-like hand clutching at Chakotay's sleeve. She leant in conspiratorially, out of earshot of Gretchen Janeway. "You'd think Admiral Baldwin's boy would be good enough for her, wouldn't you? Especially after all that time going without."

Chakotay's eyebrows rose. He had nothing to say to that, so he chose to treat the question as rhetorical.

"Apparently he's not," his diminutive companion went on. "Phoebe says he'll never get Katie down that aisle, because she's carrying a secret torch for some _alien_ man."

Chakotay's brow furrowed this time as he moistened his lips. He couldn't find a response to that either, so he settled for a polite nod and helped the grande dame to yet another flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.

_Kathryn had_ another _love-interest lined up?_

He watched Aunt Martha slowly drain her glass, and for the first time in a while, Chakotay felt old.

XxX

"Right. Give me your jacket." B'Elanna demanded. "You're dancing with me. Now."

"I am?"

"I can't bear you standing there brooding."

His surprise and displeasure at her words were probably evident. He wasn't aware he _had_ been brooding. All things considered, ever since he'd joined her at the bar, he thought he'd been doing pretty well. The fourth glass of champagne had helped.

B'Elanna took his jacket from him and hung it over the back of a chair. Resigned, he allowed her to lead him onto the dance floor. The wedding guests were moving to the music however they saw fit, some dancing in small groups, some in couples. Chakotay and B'Elanna went straight into hold and began to dance.

Both Chakotay and B'Elanna could salsa. The waitress, who had become more than a waitress to Chakotay back in the day when she had taught him to dance Cuban style salsa, had also taught the basics to a few of his Maquis cell. Even though B'Elanna hadn't spent particularly long on the dance floor, she was a natural. Provided she was dancing with a strong lead like Chakotay, she could follow pretty much anything. It was years since they'd danced salsa together, but this was a style of dance rooted in improvisation – loose, fluid and forgiving in its forms – and it lived on in muscle memory forever.

"Nice moves, you two!" Tom called.

Feeling the eyes of others on them, Chakotay failed to stop himself looking towards where he knew Kathryn and Baldwin to be, only to find she was already looking in his direction. She smiled at him. Instantly uncomfortable all over again, he guided his friend as far away from Kathryn Janeway and her fiancé as possible.

B'Elanna allowed him to take her through a few simple twists and turns, apparently enjoying herself well enough. The minute he brought her back into hold, however, she returned to her previous topic. Intense brown eyes looked up at him. "I don't think Kathryn is happy. Neither does Tom."

Chakotay pursed his lips. He began to lead her into another spin, but she ignored his signal and pulled against his hand instead, propelling herself back into his arms.

"So, will you talk to her? You used to care about her. I'm willing to bet you still do."

Rather than reply, Chakotay brooked no resistance this time, skilfully leading her through a complex set of turns that obliged her to concentrate on picking up on his every subtle cue. He was a master of evasion when it came to enquiries about the nature of his feelings for Kathryn Janeway, and this was just a new spin on an old tactic. Once upon a time he had been more open with others about his feelings. But soon after he first acknowledged how he felt about his erstwhile commanding officer, he'd gotten used to keeping things to himself.

Once B'Elanna was facing him again, there was still an expectant expression on her face. He frowned. "I already talked to her. She seemed just fine to me. And she is here with her _fiancé_ ," he enunciated crisply into B'Elanna's ear. "So, could we please just dance?"

Chakotay ignored his sense of musicality and stopped responding to the dynamics of the song in favour of leading his loquacious partner through moves that made it harder for her to continue her verbal onslaught. The dance was becoming less and less enjoyable by the minute. Mercifully, before too long, the song ended.

As Chakotay came to stand beside her, B'Elanna jerked her head towards the couple he had been trying all evening _not_ to look at. "If you get her on her own, maybe she'd open up to you. You know her better than we do."

Chakotay closed his eyes for a second to stop himself snapping. " _Knew_ her better, B'Elanna."

There was a natural lull as the band started their next number. It began with the percussion section, the other instruments joining in one by one. The energy the musicians were putting into it made it seem likely this would be their big finale. The sound built up gradually until it filled the whole room.

It only took a few seconds of the main refrain for Chakotay to recognise it. The band was performing a version of the same song he had chosen for his and Kathryn's salsa performance-that-never-was, on _Voyager_ 's first ever talent night. True, it was one of the better-known traditional Cuban salsa tracks to have survived the centuries, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that the universe was trying to tell him something. An acoustic guitar picked out the simple refrain over which the vocalist began to sing.

As Chakotay felt the lively rhythm pulse through him, it challenged him to _do_ something, just as B'Elanna had said. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but maybe there would never be one? He didn't have a plan, but, in that moment, it wasn't enough to stop him. Suddenly unable to stand immobile where he was a second longer, he set off across the room towards Kathryn Janeway and Guy Baldwin.

Tom Paris was approaching jauntily and attempted to intercept him.

"Chakotay," Tom started, a knowing smile on his face. "Just the man I was looking for."

"Catch you later." Chakotay nimbly sidestepped him, patting him on the back.

"Wait, I-"

"Sorry, Tom. There's something I need to do."

[TBC]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Big thank you once again to the ever-patient northernexposure for spending time beta reading this loooong chapter for me! Her time is precious, so I am hugely grateful to her, and her suggestions are always absolutely spot on. If you haven't already started reading her new story 'Across the Sky in Stars', then go read it now! It's fantastic. Big thank you also to the long-suffering Photogirl1890, who works her quiet way through the oceans of JCness I send her without complaint, to perform her legendary post-messing typo check.
> 
> Thank you also to everyone who has reviewed on ffn and here. I hadn't intended to write any more fanfic, but I discovered these characters were still very much under my skin!

 

* * *

 

Chapter three

"Mind if I cut in?" Chakotay asked innocently, addressing his question to both Kathryn and Guy Baldwin, while already placing a hand on the small of Kathryn's back.

"Actually-" Guy began.

"I'm shipping out in a couple of days," Chakotay spoke over him. "So this is the last chance I'll get to see Kathryn for a while. I'm sure you understand."

For once, good manners could go to hell.

If Kathryn was surprised, she masked it quickly. She accepted Chakotay's hand. Guy Baldwin's tight smile didn't reach his pale eyes. He nodded and held up his hands. "Of course."

Chakotay slid his hand around Kathryn's back to guide her into hold. She came willingly.

"That was rude!" she remarked once they'd moved out of Baldwin's earshot, but the spark in her eye could just as easily have been amusement as annoyance.

Chakotay brought his cheek to her temple. "I'm sure he'll live," he muttered into her hair, unrepentant. "I wanted to dance with you."

"You could have waited your turn." She sounded amused.

The feel of her compact form in his arms together with the tenuous control he had over his emotions at that moment made him incautious. "I wasn't sure my turn would ever come."

"What happened to your legendary patience?" she quipped.

"Everyone has their limits, Kathryn."

She pulled back enough to look up at him for a moment, arching a brow. "Noted." His pulse accelerated a little, more because of the look on her face than her reply.

He held her close and allowed her to fill his senses. There was the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair against his cheek and the perfect weight of her hand in the crook of his as she began to move with him in increasing synchronicity. Chakotay could feel that familiar compelling heat building; the heat that used to come from nowhere whenever they were in close proximity.

He didn't feel guilty for causing her fiancé obvious discomfort. Maybe he should have, but he didn't. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see her in the arms of another man for another second, and certainly not dancing to this. He'd have one last dance with her before he left. The next time he saw her she might well be Baldwin's wife.

If she was in love with Baldwin, and the dull ache in Chakotay's chest was the price of her happiness, then he would obviously accept it. He would find a way. But what if B'Elanna was right? What if Kathryn wasn't particularly happy with this man? The utter waste, the sheer futility of Kathryn and Chakotay _both_ settling for something less than… That could _not_ be allowed to happen. He pulled her closer still. The feel of her pressed against his chest through his thin white shirt raised the temperature between them a little further. He half-expected her to push back or tell him in no uncertain terms to release her. She didn't.

After the initial slow build up of the first verse, during which Chakotay held Kathryn close, the musicians were now beginning to add layer after layer of complexity. Gradually, the tempo increased as well, until the music called out for activity and movement, the rhythm fast enough now to leave little time or space for reflection. This suited Chakotay just fine. He gave himself over completely to the feel of Kathryn in his arms and to the rhythm of the music he loved.

He began to lead her through the beginning of the routine they'd tried to practise together in the run up to talent night. Her arms became an extension of his as they turned and twisted in and out of the various moves he'd choreographed all those years ago. He discovered he hadn't forgotten the sequences and neither, it seemed, had she. Kathryn followed his lead seamlessly. They circled one another, perfect tension in their outstretched arms, their hands clasped together. He pulled her in, flicked her hands up so she held them high as he grasped her firmly around the waist to spin her twice. Then he stopped her rotation dead in order to send her round again on a free turn whilst simultaneously taking a spin himself, timed to mirror her movement.

Her eyes shone with the challenge, looking to Chakotay as her fixed point as she spotted her turns. The restaurant, the guests, everything outside their intimate orbit of double rotation was a blur to him. Whenever he threw in a new move, Kathryn let out a captivating sound of delight or surprise. His heart beat in time with the music. Nothing beyond her existed for him as they turned, tapped and glided their way around the well-seasoned wooden floor. The tension that had been building between them all evening fuelled their performance, as did the fact that Chakotay was no longer holding himself in check. Dancing with Kathryn was pure pleasure. The routine was everything it always should have been and more.

The music carried them to the final bars of lively crescendo. Chakotay spun her towards him in a free turn. As she spun in, rather than allowing her approaching hand to reconnect with his, he guided her arm around behind him. His left forearm supporting her back, his other hand splayed out across the sheer fabric covering her ribcage, his fingertips just below her breasts. Kathryn followed his cue, trusting her full weight to him as she arched backwards into a dip. Laughing with delight, she threw her head back with gusto and extended her free arm to finish the move with an elegant flourish.

Chakotay was dimly aware of applause beginning to fill the room. Slowly, he brought Kathryn back up with his supporting forearm, all the while holding her gaze, until the full length of her was flush against him. His hand on her ribcage slid down to rest on the side of her waist. He held her firmly in his embrace and looked down at her lips. Her very _close_ lips. His better self should have been disgusted by the blatantly seductive and sensual way in which he had more or less moulded her pliant form against him, but his better self was noticeably silent. The rest of him would have struggled to let her go if his life had depended on it.

For a long hot moment, they stayed as they were. Kathryn was probably asking herself whether he was going to lean down and try to kiss her, just as he had the last time they'd danced salsa together five years ago. It was a fair question, because, if the noise of the applause hadn't brought him to his senses, he might have found himself doing just that. Something fiery in her eyes suggested she might have welcomed his mouth on hers again, despite everything that should have made that an impossibility.

Seconds later, aware of his surroundings once more, Chakotay slowly released her. Rather than step away from him, she turned in his embrace to face the band, her back flush with his chest. She joined the other guests in applauding. Only then did Chakotay feel the smiling eyes of other guests on them as he realised that some of the applause _wasn't_ for the band. At an earlier point in their dance routine, they must have captured the attention of those around them, turning them into an unwitting part of the evening's entertainment.

A flush rose up his neck. If only he could just order a site-to-site for them both and steal her away. Kathryn looked back at him and smiled, apparently unfazed by the attention of the other guests. Then she casually placed her hand on his shoulder while she leaned down to adjust her shoe. He enjoyed the proprietary familiarity of the gesture. Her fiancé, doubtless, would not.

Chakotay looked over to see Baldwin already making his way towards them from the bar. He already had Chakotay in his sights, his mouth was a thin tight line and his gaze was cool and unflinching. Neither man smiled.

Kathryn's head came back up. "I'm out of breath after that," she confided. "Now I'm a desk-bound admiral I'm probably not in such good shape as when I was captain."

"Fishing, Kathryn?" Chakotay teased, his hand resting lightly on her back while he continued to watch her approaching fiancé.

Kathryn swatted his arm and laughed.

Chakotay looked at her and moistened his lips, all of his attention hers again. "You look in pretty good shape to me."

She smiled, fingering the wisps of hair that fell on her neck, apparently comfortable with the full sweep of his openly appreciative gaze.

Just what part was she playing here exactly?

Once again, Chakotay felt a spark of irritation with her, but as Baldwin drew nearer still, a more powerful feeling extinguished the first. It was a desperate longing for more time. One dance simply wasn't enough. It was too damn soon to say goodbye to her.

He used her elbow to turn her away from Baldwin before she'd seen him.

"Kathryn, can we take a walk?"

"Okay." She eyed him cautiously, her slow drawl infused with curiosity.

He guided her towards the steps down to the beach. At the bottom, he realised immediately that her patent heels were not going to like the sand. To their left, a few metres away, a wooden boardwalk ran along the top of the thin belt of sandy beach, lit at intervals by the same lanterns that adorned the edge of the beachfront restaurant. Chakotay looked at Kathryn, at the beach, at the boardwalk and then back to her. Taking his life into his hands, he stepped decisively into her, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms in one fluid motion. She spluttered out surprised laughter as he carried her the short distance to the wooden causeway. For such a strong looking woman, she was surprisingly light. It was a thought he'd had several times before; the times he'd carried her prostrate body out of dire circumstances on the far side of the galaxy in that other life they'd led.

He set her down carefully, giving her time to find her footing in near darkness. "Sorry if that – if all this – " he scratched the back of his neck, then motioned vaguely to their surroundings, stumbling for words, "is a little – a little unexpected." Forcing himself to meet her expectant gaze, he offered her his arm as they began to walk. "I'm having trouble sticking to the script tonight," he managed, his words spoken to the floor.

Kathryn leant her weight on his arm. "Actually, I've been wanting to tell you something about that script." She reached up and husked conspiratorially into his ear. "I made a few significant changes a couple of weeks ago."

"Changes?" He shot her a sideways look.

"I didn't expect Guy to come tonight."

"You didn't?" Chakotay's sixth sense tingled.

"I broke off the engagement a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since."

"You broke off the engagement?"

_You sound like a parrot, man!_ He cursed himself.

"Yes. We were together when Phoebe sent out the invitations," Kathryn replied. "I didn't think he'd still want to come after I'd called things off between us. It was a surprise when he turned up just as we were leaving the hotel to come here this evening."

Chakotay concentrated on his footing on the uneven boards, off balance once again, this time because her words had made him suddenly so much lighter. He was used to thinking on his feet, but even so, sometimes it'd be nice to be able to hit pause and rewind.

_She isn't engaged. They're not even together anymore. She's not engaged. Kathryn is_ not _engaged._

Caution and hope vied for dominance as he tried to order his thoughts. He would not get ahead of himself. Of course, this didn't necessarily mean she wanted anything more than their friendship back.

_Then again, she did choose to wear that dress…_

Perhaps she just wanted a little post-relationship ego-boost? His attraction to her had always been pretty damn obvious during those seven long years, and basking in its glow seemed to warm her cooling blood when she'd hit a low spot. She used to do things to elicit a reaction from him. There was that slow crooked smile she knew he loved; those heated looks that lingered a little too long over dinner; a hand left a fraction too long on his arm, his shoulder, his chest. And it wasn't as if she was above manipulating people a little, or even a lot, from time to time, and Chakotay could always be relied upon to provide that spark of poorly disguised attraction.

But regardless of what was going on in her head, surely, cards on the table was the best approach; although he found he still needed a run up to revealing his hand.

"You said things hadn't gone to plan this evening," he began cautiously, aware he'd already been silent for too long. "What plan would that be exactly?"

They arrived at the point where the short boardwalk ended. Ahead, the thin slice of beach finally tapered away to nothing but low rocks and the sea. Chakotay and Kathryn looked at one another. He shrugged and she smiled. Then they turned as one to walk back the way they'd come, falling into stride again easily, her arm still through his. He kept his gaze on the wooden boards ahead, on tenterhooks as he hung on her answer.

"The plan, Kathryn? For tonight?" he prompted, his tone light, when several more seconds passed and still no answer was forthcoming.

"Well, I had been hoping to spend some time with _you_ ," she started slowly, her voice a little less steady than before. "I'd hoped the setting and the wonderful band Phoebe and Federico had chosen might bring a certain memory to the fore." She stole a glance at him, then looked down at herself. "I thought this outfit might jog your memory."

He felt his face crack into a grin. "It might have had a certain impact." This night was taking some surprising turns for the better. _So_ much better.

She angled her head his way. "Didn't quite go to plan when Guy appeared at the last minute."

"Can't say I'm surprised he's here. Any sensible man isn't going to give up easily on you, Kathryn."

Chakotay almost felt sorry for him. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. _Almost_. "But you only need to jog someone's memory if they've forgotten," he pointed out.

"I was under the impression you had." She wagged an elegant finger at him. "My spies tell me you've been on several away missions since we got back."

"I didn't need spies to see you've been on an _extended_ away mission." He tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"How did your away missions go?" she asked, her expression betraying very little.

"Shuttle crash analogies come to mind," he deadpanned.

Kathryn laughed through her reply. "Can't say mine was a great deal more successful. The engagement lasted a week. The minute I began to think about spending the rest of my life with him, I suddenly saw it for what it was."

In the hope she'd say more if she didn't feel under scrutiny, Chakotay stopped himself from watching how the shadows from the lanterns played across her expressive face as she spoke. He kept his gaze on the boardwalk instead. His restraint was soon rewarded.

"I can't believe I ever agreed to get engaged to him. But Guy Baldwin can be very persistent."

He tilted his head. "In my experience, persistence can get you further than you'd think."

"He was also one big mistake."

"We should all be allowed to make at least one big one."

The look they exchanged spared him from having to name his. He felt a rush of gratitude for the lack of reproach in her eyes. Kathryn was a compassionate woman; she had never held his mistakes against him. Which was a damn good thing, because in the past, when he'd screwed up, he'd screwed up big time.

They'd arrived back at the point where they'd joined the boardwalk. They came to a stop. This time, without a word, Kathryn moved closer and slid her arm up around his neck, making it easier for him to reach down and scoop her up. Once he'd carried her the few steps across the sand, he was tempted to hold her there in his arms longer than necessary, but his skin prickled with the distinct feeling of being watched. He looked up. Sure enough, Tom and B'Elanna were looking down on them. He set Kathryn down.

"Tom, B'Elanna," Chakotay greeted them as he and Kathryn ascended the steps. "Still enjoying the party?"

"Well, they're still serving champagne which is good," B'Elanna smiled, "but the dance floor is full of octogenarians and toddlers now."

Kathryn laughed. "Look out for Aunt Martha. She does some mean interpretive dancing."

Tom laughed. "Seems all the Janeway women are impressive on the dance floor."

Kathryn smiled and took a mock bow. "Glad you were entertained."

"Guy asked me to pass a message on to you," Tom told her. "He left. Said he had an early meeting tomorrow."

"I see," she replied. "Thank you, Tom." She avoided Paris's gaze, her mouth twitching slightly.

Chakotay failed to avoid Paris's piercing blue eyes, but found nothing there to make him uncomfortable.

Tom turned to B'Elanna. "We should probably leave soon too."

"It's still early!" she protested.

"I just think it'd be a good idea not to stay out too late. First night with a new nanny and all that."

"You're worried about Miral?" Kathryn asked him.

"I'm worried about the nanny," he replied. "She didn't look tough enough to me. Miral will probably have her in a headlock by now."

"She's six months old, Tom!" Torres exclaimed.

Janeway laughed and B'Elanna rolled her eyes.

Tom and B'Elanna left Chakotay and Kathryn at the top of the steps and continued their conversation as they walked towards the bar. Chakotay instinctively led Kathryn to the furthest corner of the moonlit decking, out of sight of most of the other guests. It felt too soon to rejoin the party.

Leaning back against the railing to bring himself down to Kathryn's height, he loosened his tie, opening his collar a few fingers' widths where it had started to feel too constricting. Kathryn positioned herself close beside him, facing out into the night. Chakotay's stomach seemed to be fluttering somewhere it shouldn't be. His heart filled with trepidation and hope. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was possible that at least some of those feelings were mirrored in Kathryn's eyes.

He cleared his throat, offering a silent prayer to any spirits who might be listening. "Kathryn, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

She turned her full stellar smile on him. "Yes. I'd like that. Very much."

He grinned, excited, exhilarated. He let out a long, slow breath as the space inside his chest expanded, his internal landscape suddenly opening out to offer him vistas he hadn't contemplated seriously in years.

Then he tilted his head, smiling at her. "You know you could have just _told_ me when you arrived that you and Baldwin were no longer together."

"Where would be the fun in that?" The glint in her eyes was positively wicked. Then she smiled. "But seriously, what would you have had me do? Just drop it into conversation with him standing right there?"

"Point taken. But it would have saved me a good hour or so of misery watching you with him."

"The last thing I'd planned for tonight was to make you miserable." Her gaze slanted down to his mouth. "Quite the opposite actually."

He swallowed. She hadn't done _that_ in a while. A long while. His pulse speeded up. But then her gaze dropped to his chest and she shook her head slightly. When she spoke again it was with an open sadness he wasn't expecting. "But I've found managing personal issues hasn't been my strong suit in recent months." She looked out into the night again, "I think I just wanted to have every sphere of my life back under control. And in everything apart from my personal life, I have. I think I may have been trying to convince myself I could just step back into a life similar to the one I had with Mark. The life I was forced to leave behind."

"Makes sense," Chakotay murmured, low.

"And when Guy proposed, well, I guess I just wanted to be able to tick 'stable relationship' off my list too," she added, still looking out into the black, the coherence of her narrative appearing to be of great importance to her; possibly more so than it was to Chakotay. She shook her head and sighed. "After less than a week, I realised my heart wasn't in it. And… well," she turned back from the darkness to look directly into Chakotay's eyes, "for the past few weeks I've been asking myself whether I might have left it somewhere else."

He ducked his head for a second, smiling; then he met her gaze again. "I think I've been asking myself that same question. But for several _months_ now."

Surprising him, she slinked slowly and cat-like halfway across his body, to position herself within the arc of his left arm. Following her cue, his hand came to rest on her hip. Slender fingers toyed with one of his shirt buttons, and he watched entranced as her other small pale hand came to rest on his bicep.

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Kathryn," he told her, his skin tingling as she continued to fiddle with his shirt button and her shimmering midnight-blue fingernails sparked hot points through his shirt. He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "I thought it was just me who was still thinking about everything that happened and didn't happen between us."

She looked up at him and quirked a brow. "I guess it's hardly news to either of us that appearances can be deceptive." Then her fingernail tapped his chest pointedly. "Although I did think _B'Elanna_ might have told you how often I'd been asking after you in the past few weeks. And I _certainly_ thought you'd get the message that I wanted to talk to you tonight, when I couldn't keep my eyes off you all evening!" She laughed, then she grew serious. "I remember a time when all I had to do was look at you and you seemed to know exactly what I was thinking."

The wistfulness of her tone found a corresponding ache in Chakotay's heart.

"I remember those times too." Hopefully they could relearn one another. He certainly felt hopeful now.

Her hand came to rest over his heart. "Then again," she went on, playful again, "I also remember a time when Tom Paris could be relied upon for certain things. You see, I may have let slip earlier to Tom about having called off my engagement. That used to be more than enough to get the scuttlebutt running."

Chakotay ducked his head and smiled as the pieces fell into place. "Actually, I think it probably still is."

Then she surprised him again by lifting her hand and brushing the backs of her fingers oh-so-lightly against his cheek. "I was hoping we could try to get to know one another as the people we are now. Now that we're home. As two people who have a _choice_ about whether and how exactly they'd like to be intimately connected."

Completely enthralled, he watched her face. He didn't want her touch to stop. "Get to know one another without constrictions?" he offered.

"Different constrictions," she pointed out, her fingers drifting down from his cheek, then his chin, to curl into the slight opening of his shirt where he'd loosened his tie earlier. "You're captaining a star ship. I'm an Admiral based on Earth."

"True. But I like to think those things are just logistics. There's nothing there we couldn't work out."

"I'd like to think so too."

She fell silent, her gaze lowering to his chest, her own thoughts taking her somewhere else for a moment. When she looked up again, the corner of her mouth slanted up. "I'd been hoping we'd get the chance to dance together this evening. I was so glad when you finally cut in."

"Some risks are definitely worth taking." He grinned.

Her eyes twinkled, dark blue in the moonlight. "You know it occurs to me, Chakotay, dancing salsa with you me made me wonder whether George Bernard Shaw might have had a point."

"Can't say I'm familiar."

"He was a writer in the twentieth century. I remember reading once that he said dancing was the vertical expression of a horizontal desire legalised by music."

Laughter took Chakotay by surprise. Then he leaned in close to her delicate ear. "Is this your way of saying you have horizontal designs on me, Kathryn?"

Her gravel and honey drawl sent tingles down his spine. "Well, I've always looked better horizontal."

"I see. Or rather, I'd like to." Anticipation had his heart beating faster again as she slowly manoeuvred herself between his legs. This was all so very different from the way he'd expected things to turn out when he'd set off to come here this evening.

He pulled her closer, intoxicated by the feel of her compact form pressed against him. "How soon would it be polite for the sister of the bride to slip away from this party?" he asked.

It was her turn to laugh. "I think I ought to stay a _little_ longer. Do you think you can stay vertical for another fifteen minutes?"

"Vertical works for me too," he murmured, low.

She seemed to shiver delightfully in his arms.

He lifted his hand and it settled on her cheek. She turned into his palm a fraction. "Although you should know that I have no intention of rushing you into anything," he emphasised. "I don't want to risk being another mistake you give marching orders to after only a week."

"No need to worry on that count. I'm through with rushing into _anything_." She smiled. "Getting things right between us may take a little time. There are conversations we need to have. But I have a strong feeling that good things come to she who waits."

He gently took her chin and brought her lips to within a hair's breadth of his. "And I have a strong feeling I'm going to enjoy getting to know Alpha Quadrant Kathryn Janeway better."

"Time for a different kind of exploring," she husked as she reached up to close the tiny space he'd left between their lips.

Her kiss was everything he needed it to be – demanding, responsive, and sinfully skilful. Her fingers twisted into the collar of his shirt as she had her deliciously wicked way with him. When she pulled back, the look in her eyes told him she was well aware she'd left him desperately craving more. With a single kiss she had claimed him as hers again.

When he materialised on the bridge of what was then her ship all those years ago, Chakotay suspected he'd finally found someone to turn him upside down and nail his feet up where his head should be. If that made him the King of Fools, then so be it. He'd wear that crown proudly, because life was so much better with Kathryn Janeway in it.

XxX

"So, shall we dance?"

" _Again_?"

"Tired already, Admiral?"

"Not at all. I feel like this night is still young."

"So let's dance."

"You don't think we've made enough of a spectacle of ourselves for one night?"

"My people have a saying," he watched as her crooked smile appeared, right on cue, as he knew it would, "although I suspect we may have borrowed this one from another culture: 'We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance'."

"In that case, lead the way." Her hand waved him forward.

He gestured for her to precede him instead. She did, and he followed her onto the dance floor to join the few remaining couples slow-dancing to the late evening wind-down music that was playing. Phoebe Janeway and her new husband were watching them from across the room.

Chakotay gently clasped Kathryn's shoulders from behind, dipping his head to drop his words close to the delicate shell of her ear. "Actually, my people have quite a bit to say when it comes to dancing. There's another one I remember: 'To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak'."

Kathryn turned into his arms, slowly, sultrily, and looked up at him. She placed her hand in his. "I like that one better."

"Me too," he replied, as they began to move as one.

[The end.]


End file.
